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“Need some aloe for that.”
He glances down to follow my gaze and then looks up at me with a wicked smirk. “Got any at your place?”
“Sure do.”
He whips his shirt off and tucks it into his shorts. “My back feels burned too though.” He turns to show me his completely-not-burned back, and I’m confused for a second before he glances back over his shoulder. “I might need some help with it.”
And while my mind is saying,holy shit kill me now, my mouth says, “I got your back, sweetheart. Literally.”
11
Orson
Ford lives in a standard,well-kept brick house on a huge block of land. He’s got a monster shed behind the house, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where he spends the majority of his time.
“How many cars do you have out there?” I ask, nodding toward it.
“Guess.”
“Umm … twenty?”
He slaps a hand over his heart. “Wow, do you overestimate me.”
“How many, then?”
“Guess you’ll have to come out there one day and see for yourself.”
I know if I pushed for him to tell me, he would, but it’s obvious what he’s doing. Another excuse for us to spend time together is fine by me.
It was a short drive back to Ford’s, and even though I took my loose tank off, my shorts are still uncomfortably wet. Ford almost had a fit over us sitting in the car like this, and I swear if he’d driven us out here in Momma T, we’d still be sitting around, waiting to dry off.
“No dripping on the floors,” he teases as he opens his front door.
“And how do I stop from doing that?”
“I bet you’d drip less if you were naked.”
“True, but I think I’d traumatize your neighbors.”
“Hmm, good point.” Ford steps aside to let me past.
And given how understated the outside is, I’m not expecting his interior. Dark timber hardwood, light brown walls, sturdy furniture. It’s modern and masculine, clean, but definitely lived-in.
“Bathroom’s down the hall.”
I glance over as he closes the door behind us. “Not going to show me?”
“Thought I’d grab us some clothes first.”
“Who says we need them?”
Ford’s eyes narrow in on me. “I’ve had a lot of naked men in here but can safely say none of them were straight.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
He groans and palms his face before shoving me toward the bathroom. “Get in there. I’ll pass the clothes through the door.”
“Prude,” I shoot back and head in the direction he pushed me. Teasing Ford is fun, and since I’ve given myself permission to relax into this spark between us, there’s been a lot less overthinking. I still can’t actually picture anything happening with a man, but I’m open to it if it does.
